![]() ![]() The lyrics spoke of hypnotist-collectors, tambourine men and outlaws on Australian mountain ranges. A gorgeous woman, dressed in red, lounged in the background, smoking. Recordings of people like Lotte Lenya, Ric Von Schmidt, Robert Johnson and The Impressions, a fallout shelter sign and an issue of Time magazine with Lyndon Johnson on the cover surrounded him. It featured a picture of Dylan holding a gray cat and reading a magazine article on Jean Harlow. It was a record called "Bringing It All Back Home." I'd never heard or seen anything remotely like it. "Just a communist folk singer," she said, smiling sweetly. What she was playing for me today was totally out of left field. She had turned me on to jazz people like Charles Mingus and John Coltrane. I liked this store because the salesgirl in the record department was hip. If you wanted records, you bought them at department stores, dime stores or by mail order. There was no such thing as a record shop in those days, even in places like Birmingham. It was in 1965 in a Selma department store. Instead, I thought back to the first time I'd heard Bob Dylan. ![]() In a cheeky departure, one fan wrote that he'd heard a parody on the radio that morning with a chorus that went, "Everybody must get old!" Not only has Bob turned 60, but it's see you later Trent Lott and GOP majority." Someone wrote that it was "a wonderful day for more reasons than one. The fans on the discussion group, who may or may not have been laboring under the delusion that Dylan actually reads their posts, were sending birthday greetings.Ī lot of them quoted lyrics of his songs: "May you stay forever young," "He who is not busy being born is busy dying," "I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now." ![]()
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